


Scheherazade at Gunpoint

by DifferentDances



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-03 05:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DifferentDances/pseuds/DifferentDances
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the Kinkmeme prompt where Jim doesn't order Scotty to stun Khan (http://strek-id-kink.livejournal.com/1695.html?thread=175007#t175007).</p><p>Spans the Star Trek Into Darkness movie and veers off (naturally). Khan is imperious, calculating, and plotting a future with Kirk while all Kirk wants to do is make sure justice is served.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they prepare to make the space jump to the Vengeance, Khan notices that Captain James T. Kirk is not exactly Starfleet standard-issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the plot bunny that would not let go. Now revised from LJ with dialogue from the movie rather than my remembered bits. Stays pretty close to the movie until it goes off...

~~~~~~

Khan stared at the exit port, his mind calculating and discarding plan after alternative plan. Kirk had thus far proved malleable, for all his blustering front as a good obedient member of Starfleet's rank and file. Khan’s initial approximation that Kirk was a man with a conscience had been both an educated guess and manipulation, but he was pleasantly surprised that Kirk had reaffirmed the analysis. Khan was reasonably certain he could maneuver the Captain into serving his needs; the man, young and inexperienced as he was, seemed dedicated to a form of moral code Khan could respect. Not one he necessarily shared, but certainly respected.

Given how James Kirk was scrambling about for any solution at all to help him save the crew of the Enterprise, Khan understood the man's motivations more clearly than he suspected Kirk understood the captive chesspiece Khan was. The conversation held with Marcus broadcast shipwide validated Khan’s initial impression of Kirk’s integrity, even if he seethed at being offered up as a sacrifice, his own mind racing futilely to find a way to save his precious crew. _Please, Sir. I’ll do anything you want. Just let them live._ Then Marcus’ rejection and Kirk’s shipwide apology. _I’m sorry._ His quiet, regretful had echoed through the titanium-alloy walls of the ship, the hollow sound thudding in Khan’s ears as he remembered fleeing Marcus’ captivity and whispering the same apology to the crew he thought dead, the same apology he repeated again in the recesses of his mind as he realized he was out of options sitting there shackled on a dead ship.

Those in the medbay had varied reactions to the news of their imminent death. A few nurses had tears in their eyes, and the security guards had swallowed thickly. The one called McCoy had shaken his head, grim resignation on his face, as he muttered hotly,“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Jim.” A nurse gave the doctor a small smile and nod, and the room seemed to swell with silent agreement. If nothing else, Kirk was an exemplary, if inferior, human being for having so thoroughly commandeered his crew's loyalty by giving them his loyalty in kind.

Even dogs, he mused, could have their day. 

And Kirk had arrived in the medbay, righteous and afraid and determined. _I will do everything I can to make you answer for what you did. But right now I need your help._ And even without any real bargaining power, Khan looked in his clear blue eyes, strategies shifting into place, and made the decision. Khan needed Kirk’s help to get aboard the _Vengeance_ , and there was no harm in letting the younger man believe he was doing something that would save his own crew.

Now Khan eyed the trash exhaust port thoughtfully, preparing himself to navigate the debris ahead. He paid the conversation Kirk was having with the stowaway Scotty only partial attention. Whatever concerns those two had about the operation, Khan knew he had little to worry about provided he kept his attention sharp. 

"It's gonna be like, jumping out a moving car, off a bridge, into a shot glass!" fretted the Scottishman. Khan briefly considered the man's chances of a successful career in Starfleet provided he survived long enough to babble his inexact descriptions to his commanding officers. 

"It’s okay, I've done it before." Kirk dismissed Scotty with an impatient huff, the weary confidence in his voice one borne of experience and not, strangely, bravado.

Khan didn't blink, but almost against his will his head turned to gaze at the captain curiously.

Kirk caught him staring and seemed to become flustered. "Uh, yeah, I was vertical. We jumped onto a Romulan–“ His tongue got in his way. “Uh…it doesn’t matter. Scotty–“ 

Undoubtedly an interesting tale, and one, Khan decided impulsively, he would hear from Kirk in detail later once the Vengeance had been taken. He would decide Kirk's fate after he'd listened to his tales - for surely, his voice implied many such stories. During his time as John Harrison, he had heard in passing both reverence and condescension about the adventures and successes of one James T. Kirk. Hearing them from the source himself would be a pleasant diversion from the stress and constant anxiety of the past year. Once his curiosity had been sated, however... 

In the meantime, they had work to do. Khan cut the flustered man off and turned back to focus on the port. "Did you find the manual override?"

"-the manual override, Scotty," Kirk stammered out a half beat behind him, embarrassment coloring his voice.

This time Khan resisted the urge to turn back. Kirk was posturing again, though certainly not to make himself seem like a credible threat to Khan the way he'd tried to when Khan was in the brig. The change in attitude was peculiar. Another puzzle, and a not entirely welcome distraction with his crew still trapped in those damned torpedoes on the Enterprise and Marcus undoubtedly regaining power to his weapons at any moment.

Forcibly dropping the line of thought that centered on the nervous man behind him, Khan dropped into a crouch, readying himself for the high-pressure propulsion that would send them through the field of debris to the small airlock.

A half a heartbeat later, he felt Kirk join him, Kirk's thighs brushing against his hip.

Well. That was interesting as well. Kirk held no love for Khan - not all the righteous anger had been bluster - but he held no qualms about following Khan's lead. How unusual that he lacked the prideful arrogance that seemed to inhibit Starfleet's leadership.

Khan switched on his display screen, and heard the stuttering whir of Kirk’s screen following a second later. He resisted the urge to look at the man again, bemused. 

The rumors he'd heard in brief seemed to indicate Kirk would be filled with arrogance. Several times now he had seen indications otherwise, and this -that Kirk would take the lead of a man he considered evil and monstrous because it was practical- sealed Khan's impression of Kirk's humility.

Scotty’s voice came on again as he declared that he’d set the manual override into place.

“You ready?” Kirk asked, and Khan could hear the adrenaline rush in the lilt of his voice.

“Are you?” Khan couldn’t resist the challenging tone creeping into his voice, despite his plans to play nice and docile with Kirk until he had what he wanted. He knew his body and his mind – he would survive this shoot with little problem. Kirk, on the other hand, was only human.

Kirk didn’t flinch in the least, and his voice was steady. “Spock, pull the trigger.”

Far from perfect, Khan concluded - no one was like Khan and his crew, his family – but Kirk was far and above the pathetic garbage around him.

It would not be wrong, Khan supposed, to keep Kirk around after he'd retrieved his crew, even if briefly. Such a man might possibly serve well as a charming servant. Or bait. 

He heard the Vulcan half-breed -useless for all his intellect- count down, and then they launched into the field of debris.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The space jump through Khan's eyes, and a growing interest in Kirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised to accurately reflect that they did not touch in the movie while doing the space jump. I liked it, but it's not accurate and I wanted this to be a reflection of the movie until the moment of divergence. Hope that's okay with everyone...

All went well until Khan and the _Enterprise_ bridge crew heard the telltale crack of Kirk's faceplate. Kirk was nonchalant about the potential danger, and here, for a rare, disorienting moment, Khan witnessed arrogance in Kirk. And yet it was a strange thing - Khan heard a different tone to the arrogance, one that belied a long history of surviving the impossible. He made no comment on it and focused on avoiding the bits of debris in his way, his mind multitasking as a part of him mused on the subject of one Captain James T. Kirk. How was Kirk not yet corrupted by the system he was immersed in? The stories that lay behind the man who gave into savage rage while trying to beat Khan to a bloody pulp, and the same man who, despite Marcus' best manipulative efforts, went against his orders to kill a murderer without a fair trial, intrigued Khan further. A lesser man – most men – would have obeyed orders without question, without hazarding their careers, crews, and lives. A small concession to the ones in charge, at the cost of executing one man. Yet something in Kirk, some story, somewhere sometime, about right and wrong and morality, had led Kirk to make a different decision.

Khan wondered what that story was, when the moral lines had been carved into Kirk’s face in his furrowed brow and grimly set lips.

Kirk was, Khan decided as he avoided a small piece of debris, interesting on top of being possibly the best specimen Starfleet had to offer, and he quirked a secret smile to himself. There would be no shame in associating with him, despite being inherently inferior. Kirk was, for all his easy access to instinct and rage and violence, a _thinking_ man; in another time, Kirk's genetics and temperament might have served as the building blocks of Khan's people.

So. Not lesser, then, but perhaps younger, earlier -unfinished and undeveloped.

And it was with this distraction that Khan too late paid heed to erstwhile-Captain-Hikaru-Sulu's warning of a large chunk of debris in his path. 

He collided with the chunk of fabricated metals and resins and spun wildly. Calmly, if somewhat annoyed with himself for being so distracted by the admittedly appealing mystery of James Kirk, he slowly righted himself and readjusted his body in line with the goal in sight. He could hear the _Enterprise_ crew trying to hail him - apparently they'd lost his signal, a fact for which he assumed he could thank the same chunk of debris that now lay between him and the _Enterprise_.

He could make it to the _Vengeance_ by himself, he supposed. He may not be able to use the airlock manned by Scotty, but there were other ways into the ship, many more tedious and time consuming; the power could come back online before he got in and the _Enterprise_ would be destroyed. He could part ways here with Kirk, and would probably never hear of the vertical fall that was likened to a shot glass in Kirk's world, or understand how Kirk had earned his arrogance about doing the impossible.

"Was Khan hit?" came Kirk's voice over the communicator. His voice was coated in concern - though mostly that he'd lost the key element to saving his crew, it seemed as though there was something more personal, more raw in his voice at the thought of losing Khan.

Perhaps, Khan mused, he would seek Kirk out once he'd safely commandeered the _Vengeance_ ; he could negotiate for his crew back and add in the bargain some quality time with the captain.

"Spock, my display is dead. I'm flying blind."

Khan distantly heard Spock report that there was no chance Kirk would make it to the airlock, and he wondered faintly, _What miracle will save you now, Kirk? How will you survive the impossible this time?_

And in the next heartbeat, thinking of all the stories Kirk had to offer, of all the impossible things Kirk had managed without being Khan or any member of his crew, the rumors and envious whispers that filled even Section 31, Khan spoke calmly. "My display is still functioning. I see you Kirk, you’re two hundred meters ahead at my one o’clock." Oh yes, how he saw him; the silly, marvelous thing flying in a deadly field of debris without any direction still had confidence and determination through his whole body. “Cut to your left, a few degrees, and follow me.” And yet, once Khan came alongside him, the man did the most foolish thing and _relaxed_ ever so slightly.

As they made their way to the airlock, it occurred to Khan that in this instance, he had provided the deus ex machina in the tale of Kirk and the Defective Display Compass. How strange to be a part of someone else's story; how different and unfamiliar. With a brief flash of sharp jealousy, Khan wondered how many of Kirk's stories had others taking part, and how many stories had Kirk playing mere roles.

This thought sat ill with Khan and quiet, indignant rage flared within him. He had not been lying or exaggerating when he’d declared himself better in every way – his judgment of those around him, how they could slot into the wheels of his plans and world, was impeccable. In another time, Kirk would have been a prized companion, a cherished friend or lover. Kirk was no one's minor plot device, or side story, or supporting character. Kirk would stand beside Khan as key players in their stories and the stories of the universe. 

Khan heard someone on the bridge count down their shortening distance, and he used those seconds to consider how best to alter their trajectory to ensure both he and Kirk would survive. Kirk paid him no mind as he frantically tried to get a response from the oddly silent Scotty. Khan could survive being slammed against the hull if he angled himself slightly; Kirk would not fare half as well.

It was fortunate that the airlock slid open; Khan had begun to panic with the realization that Kirk might not survive the impact, no matter how Khan tried to cushion the landing; the man's faceplate was cracking rapidly and would soon shatter. The loss of someone he’d only begun to slide into place in his careful schemes would only have fueled Khan’s rage against Starfleet for causing the death of yet another under his watch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pivotal conversation that changes everything by not happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you asking for the original chapters, they can be found on page 9 of the first round of the Kinkmeme. However, I would advise newcomers to stay tuned here - this is the revised set of chapters and some of the changes I made are tiny but significant, and may be missed if you go reading the original.

They finally came to a stop after tumbling down the long corridor. Khan gave himself time to acclimate and regain his sense of balance. Beside him, he could hear Kirk moaning as he rolled himself to his knees (and what an unexpected thrill that was; Khan tucked that thought away for further examination later.).

"Welcome aboard!" Scotty grinned. 

“It’s good to see you, Scotty,” Kirk said. The relief in his tone Khan could understand. The sheepish apology – that was unexpected.

“Who is that?” Scotty asked as Khan glanced about the empty hanger.

"Ungh." Kirk tried to ease the kinks in his body as he made quick introductions. "Khan, Scotty, Scotty, Khan," he said with vague gestures.

It was perhaps the most casual introduction Khan had ever experienced; he was startled to realize he had expected Kirk to say something along the lines of,'Scotty, this is Khan; he killed a bunch of people but he's helping us for now.' Or even just,'Scotty, this is Khan aka John Harrison. Keep an eye on him.'

"They'll know we're here," Khan stated, hiding his surprise and certainly not wishing to alert Scotty to his true fugitive status. They had to get moving if they were to make the best use of this opportunity, and Khan was increasingly invested in Kirk's survival, which also required making haste and pressing their advantage. “I know the best way to the bridge.”

He was surprised when Kirk handed him a phaser. He was less surprised when Kirk told him it was locked to stun only. "Theirs won't be," he pointed out; it was a decided disadvantage.

"So don't get shot," Kirk said with an easy grin.

Khan pressed his lips together but said nothing further; of course in Kirk's world, not getting shot by hostiles was the best and most reasonable defense. He was looking forward to learning how and why that came to be. 

As he led Kirk and Scotty through the _Vengeance_ , he heard Scotty marvel,"Where’d you find this guy, Captain?"

He tensed in preparation to respond to whatever Kirk said. When Kirk merely said,"It's a long story," with a note of fondness and exasperation in his voice, Khan relished the feeling of pleasure arising in his body. Certainly Kirk was trying to keep the peace until the task at hand was finished, but the quirk of his lips was not a lie.

As they were attacked by Marcus' henchmen, Khan decided firmly that he quite liked Kirk. He also rather very much liked the idea that Kirk, despite himself, seemed to like and admire Khan. That was a good state of affairs to preserve and encourage, Khan decided as his wheels began to turn rapidly, trying to find the place where Kirk would fit best, and he yelled out a warning "Kirk!" as more henchmen came flooding into the corridor.

He let himself admire the way Kirk fought, concussed, sleep-deprived, and still healing from the fight on Kronos as he was. Certainly he lacked the strength and precision training Khan possessed, but the man made up for it with sheer instinct and reflexive aggression, the lines of his body vibrating with energy and enthusiasm. What had made a man with such passion and violence enlist with a straight-laced, humorless organization like Starfleet?

That would be another story to add to Khan's growing list of James Kirk stories. And those stories, Khan noted as he brutally took out another henchman and the additional data of Kirk’s reflexes and temper slid into place in his mind, would go nicely with soft sheets and sweaty, messy sex. Kirk was certainly in good enough shape to withstand most of what Khan liked in bed, given how the man danced as he fought.

He heard a noise moving away from the fight, and his eyes narrowed. Best not to allow anyone to get to Marcus with advance warning of the three men invading his ship. He followed the goon and snapped his neck quickly and efficiently and headed back to find Kirk.

Khan found them between data drives. "This way," he said, making no mention of the man he'd killed. He suspected Kirk would not appreciate the efficiency, making the decision that Kirk’s strange innocence was something to be cherished with the rest of him. 

As he walked away, his superior ears heard Kirk murmur,"I don't trust him." That made sense to Khan, given how he had yet to enlighten Kirk as to his new status in Khan's eyes. Khan’s people had been engineered to be decisive, thorough, and persistent. Khan trusted his intellect and instincts, and all pointed him to learn more about the man Kirk was and had been before reshaping him to be more worthy, fulfilling the man’s full potential. There would be time for trust later.

On the heels of that statement, Kirk added in a low voice,"Look, Scotty, whatever happens when we get to that bridge, I want you to-"

Khan's heart skipped a beat as he focused his attention on Kirk's serious words. Surely he had more honor in him than to betray Khan now?

"-Nevermind," Kirk said with a frustrated sigh. "Just...keep an eye on him." Khan exhaled quietly; Kirk was being reasonably level-headed in balancing his distrust of Khan with their purpose of capturing the ship. He needed Khan, and he knew it, but as far as Kirk knew, he could not trust Khan. A fair estimation, Khan granted, had he not decided Kirk belonged with him.

"I thought he was helping us?" Scotty sounded understandably confused.

"I'm pretty sure we're helping him," Kirk drawled with wry humor.

Khan smirked, pleased with Kirk’s suspicions. Yes, Kirk was not stupid. He would reward him for his aptitude later. Khan had told them he was better in everything; he was fairly confident he'd be able to rock James Kirk's world.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vengeance's bridge is taken, and Spock is not pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this was written before the DVD came out and gave us all super accurate quotes. I liked the dialogue I had, though, so I went with some of my changes rather than original.
> 
> And we're now addressing one of the big issues I had with the Spock/Old!Spock conversation about Khan.

They stormed the bridge of the _Vengeance,_ efficiently taking down the minimal crew with well placed stuns. Scotty took up a spot between Kirk and Khan, keeping a confused and obvious eye on the latter. The man had no facility in lying, especially since he seemed intrigued by Khan’s intellect.

Khan went to the front of the bridge and stood guard over the Starfleet crewmember he'd stunned, glancing briefly over at Kirk who was standing before the treacherous, deceitful Admiral Marcus. The Admiral was currently trying to (even now!) convince Kirk that he was in the right. Khan's upper lip curled in a snarl; warily, he split the majority of his focus on Marcus in case he posed a threat to Kirk. The man accused Khan of being a violent maniac; Khan was fairly sure he'd never been quite as baselessly insane as the gleam in Marcus' eyes as he preened like some sort of martyred soldier.

"War is coming, and if you take me out, who'll be left to protect our way of life? Our way of life is _dead_ without me!" 

Kirk, Khan was pleased to observe, responded calmly and with more dignity than Marcus deserved. "Sir, I can stun your ass and drag your body from that chair, but I'd rather not do that in front of your daughter." This expression of courtesy rather endeared Kirk further to Khan; not the most efficient or practical viewpoint given all that Marcus had wrought on Kirk's own crew, but noble still. 

And then Kirk turned soft blue eyes to the Admiral's daughter, Carol, and asked in a gentle, sweet tone,"Are you all right?"

Khan's eyes narrowed at the blond female, who had smiled back at Kirk with sickening gratefulness. No, this was unacceptable. Kirk was all fire and power and aggression, not some doe-eyed schoolboy; Carol Marcus was weak - she had failed to stop her father or even manipulate him properly using their admittedly strong familial bond. Kirk deserved better.

Someone like Khan, who knew how to manipulate people properly for their own good. "Captain Kirk," his crisp voice broke into the romantic interlude,"While I commend your sentiment in attempting to preserve the… _dignity_ ,” he said with a curled, contemptuous lip,”Of the Admiral, may I remind you that the _Enterprise_ is heavily damaged and requires your attention sooner rather than later." He shot Kirk an annoyed glance. "If you won't stun him, I will."

And he did, quickly taking an accurate shot at the Admiral. Carol Marcus let out a shriek.

"Khan!" Kirk yelled, exasperated, as he and Carol jumped forward to catch the slumping body. "Was that necessary?"

Khan shoved the phaser in his side holster and began to drag the downed crewmembers' bodies to the side of the bridge to be restrained. "Hail your ship, Kirk," he advised. "They are still under the belief that the guns will-"

"Shit, the guns!" Kirk whirled his head around. "Scotty-"

"On it, Captain!" Scotty leapt onto an unfamiliar console; luckily, the commands and layout were Starfleet regulation despite the cold, unforgiving aesthetics. "Guns disarmed, Sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott," Kirk said with a grunt as he added Admiral Marcus's unconscious body to the wall where Khan was rapidly gathering the remains of Marcus' crew; again, Khan was pleased that Kirk followed his initiative so well when it was pragmatic to do so. "Open a hailing frequency to the _Enterprise_. Onscreen."

"Aye, Captain, gimme a sec." 

Khan straightened and stood near Kirk, ignoring the way Carol Marcus moved away from him with wide, worried eyes. He kept the downed crewmembers of the _Vengeance_ within his line of sight, in the unlikely event any of them would awaken so soon after being stunned. They were only human, after all, weak in the face of a simple stun.

He also had an optimal view of Kirk's relief when the Vulcan half-breed's face came on the screen. "Spock!"

Spock inclined his head. "Captain. I trust you have Admiral Marcus in custody?"

"Yeah, we got him," Kirk said with a sweep of his arm to the side. 

Spock's eyes narrowed as he glanced around the _Vengeance's_ bridge. "May I inquire as to why Khan is in possession of a phaser and not in custody with Admiral Marcus?" Khan gazed at the half-breed evenly, his chin tilted up in challenge.

"Because -whatever, Spock. I want a status report of the _Enterprise_ ," Kirk said firmly, regaining his confidence.

"Captain, I must insist that Khan be disarmed and taken into custody." 

"Spock, seriously, we have got to work on your prioritizing," Kirk muttered.

"I might say the same of you, Captain," was the tranquil, velvet-wrapped dagger.

Khan couldn't help interjecting. "Do you always allow your crew such...impudence, Kirk?" The relationships Kirk had with his crew became more and more interesting. Yes, Kirk understood what it meant to hold a crew as dear as family; though Khan couldn't imagine treating his own crew with the same casual informality.

"Oh, don't you start too," Kirk snapped with a glare over his shoulder.

It was an odd sensation to feel included in this strange dynamic that Kirk held with his crew; odd, and almost overwhelmingly addictive. Khan wanted more of this, he decided, with a desperate hunger that suddenly warred with the pragmatic possibility that he _might_ not have the opportunity to do so.

Spock's dark eyes flashed. "Captain, as Khan is unpredictable and, may I remind you, a proven threat, I will reiterate the hazard he represents to your person armed as he is. I advise you again to disarm the criminal."

"Or what, you'll cite regulation at me?"

"No, as no regulation on file quite addresses arming a criminal to commit mutiny against a higher-ranked criminal, however I must advise you that I have received additional information about Khan. He is not to be trusted; leaving him in possession of a weapon is...unwise."

Khan tilted his head curiously. The half-breed's voice was flat with mistrust, and a certainty that went beyond the suspicion he'd exhibited before.

"Additional- from where?" Kirk spluttered. "Spock, I know he's a criminal-" He shut his eyes. "Believe me, I _know_ , but we’re short of actual records on Khan and his crew."

"Perhaps we lack such data, but you and I know of another who has encountered the likes of Khan before."

It took a couple of seconds for the words to make sense, and Kirk's jaw dropped. "Wait, you talked to the Old Man?" he said in an accusatory tone.

Khan blinked at the note of peevishness now in Kirk's voice, as though Spock had broken some unspoken rule, and wondered what story lay behind this 'Old Man.'

Spock's spine straightened minutely, as though surprised to be on the defensive. "It seemed prudent to ascertain the nature of Khan's intent and character. More information was available, and so I logically sought it out."

"Spock..." Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought he promised not to say anything that would, y'know, affect our choices."

"And he didn't," Spock assured him. "He did, however, warn me that Khan Noonien Singh was the most dangerous man the _Enterprise_ had ever encountered."

Zeroing in on this detail, Khan's eyes narrowed sharply at hearing his full name. He had been careful -very careful- to avoid leaving traces that could lead back to the reason his people were frozen. He had only offered Kirk and his crew his first name by choice.

"Wait, you have, like, a full name?" Kirk turned to glance curiously at Khan, before snapping his head back to the screen. "Okay, that's beside the point," he muttered, and continued with,"You said yourself - you, not the Old Man - that our destinies have been drastically altered from whatever they might have been. So why does any alternate knowledge of Khan have any weight?"

"If you'll recall, Captain," Spock retorted,"The events that altered our lives occurred approximately three decades ago. Khan and his crew's timeline has been otherwise preserved, as they were put into cryo-tubes 300 years ago. And you are deflecting the from the issue of Khan still remaining free and in possession of a weapon."

Kirk pondered that and glanced at Khan carefully, and Khan tensed. "I’m not deflecting anything," Kirk said dismissively, decisively, and Khan felt warmed by Kirk’s thoughtful regard. He turned back to the screen. "Didn't Marcus crack his tube open because of Nero?"

Spock looked as though he'd bitten into something highly unpalatable. "Affirmative, Captain," he said stiffly.

"And is that how the Old Man met Khan?" Kirk’s tone implied that he believed the answer to be in the negative, though Khan was at a loss for the specific thread of the conversation the Captain and his First Officer were having.

His ignorance irritated him, as did the small chance, however slight, that the pointy-eared wunderkind would convince Kirk to go back on his word. _You said you’d do anything for your crew. I can guarantee their safety._ "If I may interject, who is this person who believes he knows me that you would ignore your captain's judgment in favor of his?" he asked with a sneer. His hand dropped casually close to the phaser in his holster. Perhaps if necessary, he could stun Kirk, dump Marcus and the rest into space, and use the _Vengeance_ to escape. Kirk would be angry, of that he had no doubt, but that was a plot for later.

Spock continued to ignore him, which further provoked Khan's ire. "I was unable to obtain that information," he said instead to Kirk, responding to the captain’s question.

"Right." Kirk said firmly as he gazed off to the side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Enterprise begins to fall to Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang on tight, we're going where no STID Khan/Kirk fic has gone before/yet.

Khan had had enough of the emotionally stunted Vulcan making somewhat bewildering and vague accusations at his character. There were still things to be done, and while he was appropriately peeved at this mysterious supposed 'source of information' regarding his person, there would be time to find out who the Old Man was, and why Kirk's voice was filled with a curious mixture of exasperation and affection at the mention of him. Accordingly, Khan swiftly sat down at a console and began rapidly tapping in commands.

The sudden movement drew caught Kirk's attention, and he blinked at Khan, shaking off his pensive mood. "Khan, what are you doing?" Kirk sounded confused but unthreatened; Khan determined that explaining after the fact would be appropriate.

The suspicious half-breed on the screen seemed to disagree. "Mr. Scott, stun him," ordered Spock from the screen. 

Said engineer glanced about the bridge of the _Vengeance_ uncertainly. "Er, with all due respect Mr. Spock-"

And then the screen went dark.

"Khan, what did you do?" Kirk demanded, jumping down from the captain's chair to step next to Khan.

Khan ignored Kirk and the fact that Kirk had a phaser aimed at him; Kirk didn’t know any better and so his impulsiveness would be forgiven. "I did nothing to the Enterprise, Kirk. Rather, I suspect that the damage wrought by Admiral Marcus has taken its toll."

"Right, and I should take your word for that?"

Khan sighed minutely at the suspicious edge in Kirk's voice. "Here; let me show you." His long fingers danced across the console and pulled up a diagram using the _Vengeance's_ scanners. "As you can see, the power grid on the _Enterprise_ is failing."

"Captain," Mr. Scott said breathlessly as he joined the two men. "At this orbiting range, without power the _Enterprise_ will be pulled in by Earth's gravity field."

Kirk's eyes widened with dawning horror. "And crash onto the planet?!"

"If the ship is not burned up immediately upon reentry. The damage to the hull is considerable and heat shields likely at a minimum." Khan continued his work at the console as he spoke dryly. "Fortunately, we have a working transporter."

He could feel the relief radiating from Kirk's body as he lowered his phaser. "Great! Beam up my crew! Carol, see if you can re-establish communications with them. And Scotty, figure out if there's a way we can save the _Enterprise_ from being burned up."

"Aye aye, Sir," Scotty said as he and Carol Marcus threw themselves onto workstations.

Ignoring them, Khan located the 72 torpedoes containing his crew and beamed them over to the largely empty hanger. Anxiety leaving his body at his crew finally being safely in his hands, he sat back and exhaled.

"Wait, what did you just do?" Kirk asked uncertainly, his eyes flickering to the display on the console.

"Protected my family," Khan said firmly as he met Kirk's blue eyes. "Now that they are secured, Starfleet no longer has the ability to _threaten_ me into submission," he sneered, eyes darting to Admiral Marcus' unconscious form.

Kirk seemed at a loss for words. Into the tense moment came Scotty's frantic report. "Captain, the _Enterprise's_ orbital pattern is beginning to degenerate!"

For one long moment in time Khan mulled over the possibilities. He could let Kirk's crew die a fiery, blazing death as the ship burned in the atmosphere of Earth. He could beam Marcus and his cronies over and erase all evidence and trace; the _Vengeance_ would belong to him and his crew and Kirk would be a pleasant bonus.

And yet.

The dawning horror and anguish in Kirk's eyes resembled too closely Khan's reflection of the past year.

Khan reached out and pressed the console just once more, initalizing the secondary command protocol he'd input after the sequence targeting and retrieving his crew.

The crew of the _Enterprise_ began to materialize around them, the bridge crew joining them in the bridge of the _Vengeance_ , the rest filling the other empty spaces onboard far, far from the hangar with his crew. Khan trusted Kirk to not take advantage of his people being frozen and helpless. Kirk’s crew, on the other hand, were still Starfleet rubbish.

The brilliant, grateful joy in Kirk's grin as he saw his bridge crew compelled Khan to respond with an upward quirk of the lips. "Khan," Kirk began,"Seriously, I'll put in a serious good word for you at the trial-" And Khan's brief, flickering smile vanished into a scowl. Did Kirk seriously entertain the notion that he would allow himself to stand trial before a council of corrupt morons that had bred and encouraged the likes of Marcus?

"Captain, the torpedoes-" Spock trotted to a halt beside Kirk, much to Khan's displeasure. He had been tempted to program that one’s beam somewhere in the lavatory facilities, but thought the pettiness beneath him. Now he mulled doing so anyway.

Kirk waved his hand dismissively. "I know, Khan beamed his crew over before he got you guys."

"No, Jim, you don't understand-" the Vulcan interrupted with a hint of desperation in his voice. Khan noted the gawky look of pleasant surprise on Kirk's face when he'd been addressed as 'Jim;' curious, that. Had the Vulcan never been so informal with him?

And then explosions rocked the _Vengeance_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had lost them _again_.

Khan's mind went blank, and he dimly registered Kirk yelling for Spock to explain why the torpedoes went off.

His crew. His family.

Khan began to tremble. Someone else - the doctor - was yelling at Kirk over the confused commotion.

His _crew_. His _family_.

He had lost them _again_. 

When he'd thought that Marcus had disposed of his crew, he'd retaliated accordingly: he'd orchestrated the destruction of Section 31, the pride of Marcus' focus and ambitions. The collateral loss of lives in London was unfortunate but irrelevant. Then he'd taken direct action to murder Marcus himself.

Kronos had been a pitstop, a fallback while he'd regrouped and planned and replanned his next actions. It was a fitting, ironic place to feed and stoke his violent rage, hidden in the crags and cliffs of a warrior race as savage as he, if less intelligent. That the Klingons were a part of Marcus' masterplan to ignite an interstellar war was a delicious bonus as well; he knew Marcus would find the setup too appealing to resist.

Then Sulu had said the most beautiful words Khan had ever expected to hear: "I will unleash the entire payload of advanced long-range torpedoes currently locked onto your location."

Khan knew full well how infrequently research into advanced weaponry was authorized by Starfleet, and of the torpedoes being developed that were long-range, there were an extremely limited number of projects authorized by the highest levels of Starfleet.

The number of torpedo projects ready for use in that instant...only the one containing his crew. Marcus no doubt believed that the irony of being killed by the torpedoes containing his crew was too great to pass up.

He knew then that he had to get to the _Enterprise_. He had to confirm how many there were of his people, and figure out a way to escape with them intact.

He thought he'd succeeded.

Through the dull roar of his anger and despair, he heard one clear sentence. "Spock, this was _your idea_?" Kirk sounded downright flabbergasted even as he sounded impressed. Khan would punish him for that admiration later, he decided distantly as anger flushed through his system.

His rage found a focus, and he snarled like a wounded animal, heartbreak screeching through his throat. He found the pointy-eared half-breed standing next to Kirk and the doctor; Kirk turned a sympathetic glance to Khan.

And Khan pounced, grief and adrenaline fueling his superior strength and reflexes.

He threw Spock across the bridge of the _Vengeance_ before anyone had a chance to move. "You!" he snarled, and let out another howl of rage as he kicked the Vulcan viciously. He pulled the Vulcan to his feet and slammed him against a console. The Vulcan tried to fight back; he was stronger than a normal human, Khan observed, but not stronger than _him_.

He placed his hands on the sides of Spock's head and began to crush the filthy skull that had conceived of the destruction of Khan's people. He ignored the whining of phasers being drawn on him, and ignored the stun shots fired into his flesh. They merely jolted him with laughable futility as his hands tightened on the Vulcan’s skull.

"KHAN!" Kirk's voice sounded frantic. "Khan," he said more urgently as he came up and tried fruitlessly to pull Khan's hands away from Spock. "Khan, your crew is still alive. They're ok," Kirk said urgently. "Stop, we'll get them, I promise, but you have to let Spock go."

Khan froze as Spock gave a low moan in pain. The Vulcan deserved death. Deserved more than death.

But Spock was Kirk's crew. And Kirk was telling him that Khan's crew was fine. Kirk had yet to lie.

"Khan, I promise they're fine, but we have to move _now_ ," Kirk said urgently as he pulled again on Khan's arm. Khan let him pull him away from Spock; the dark-skinned female who spoke Klingon rushed to the Vulcan's side.

Still shaken, Khan turned to Kirk, his hand finding Kirk's and gripping it tightly like a lifeline. "My crew- where are they?"

The doctor - Bones - was the one who responded. "They're on the _Enterprise_ , all cozy in their cryotubes. We removed them from the torpedoes because we figured you might try to trick us."

Khan froze. That ship was falling to Earth. His crew could survive in the cold of space until their pods were retrieved, but those pods would never withstand the burning friction of planetfall.

"Calm down," Kirk said gently, squeezing his hand reassuringly before raising his voice. He made no move to free his hand from Khan's tight grip, a fact for which Khan was grateful. "Right. I'm taking any and all suggestions on how to keep the _Enterprise_ from falling to Earth."

"Teleporter's out, Captain," Sulu said from the console he'd commandeered sometime in the melee. 

"Right, okay. Khan, does this ship have any sort of tractor beam devices?" Kirk glanced at Khan.

Khan responded mechanically, his full attention focused on his rage and fear and gratefulness that Kirk would not let him succumb alone to madness borne of despair. "I built in a tractor beam in the event the torpedoes were set loose in the vacuum of space. It lacks the power to pull back the _Enterprise_ , however."

"Right, so we got a tractor beam. Scotty, Chekov, any way we can boost the power?" This caught the small part of Khan's attention that was not overwhelmed with grief and anger, that part of him that marveled at Kirk's insistence on accomplishing the impossible. 

"Meybe iff ve rewroute the vfasers to the tractor veam ve can viden the target area, Keptin," said a blond child in a red shirt. Khan blinked, briefly distracted by the interaction of the crew. This crewmember was a mere child!

And yet, this child had an interesting, if unorthodox and ultimately unworkable idea, one that certainly would never have occurred to Khan. Certainly Khan's crew would never have engaged in such a disorganized brainstorming session; their superior minds would've allowed them to see the futility of certain implausibilities.

Before Khan could point out the impossibility of Chekov's idea, however, Scotty jumped in. "Aye, and given the dual warp cores on this ship - and Jim, I want to pick Mr. Khan's brain over here when this is all said and done, because this is brilliant-"

"Scotty!" Kirk cut him off impatiently, a note of fondess taking the edge off.

"Right. There's an abundance of power still left in the remaining warp core; the torpedoes knocked the other one offline. We might be able to use that to boost the power and strength of the traction." Scotty licked his lips nervously. "But we'll not have power and we'll be left sitting like ducks. I can reserve some power for minimal life support, but that won’t last long."

"Right, do it."

"Captain, I cannae guarantee-"

"Just do it, Mr. Scott, Chekov. I got faith in you."

Khan stared at Kirk in disbelief. By his calculations, the chances of this attempt succeeding were less than one millionth of one percent. And that was provided Kirk's crew could figure out how to completely rewrite advanced engineering they'd never encountered before in time to salvage the _Enterprise_.

Kirk paid him no mind, however, and turned, pulling Khan with him. "Uhura, get on the comms and raise Starfleet, let 'em know we're gonna need a tow." 

The female by Spock nodded as she sprang into action. "Yes, Sir."

Kirk turned again. "Mr. Sulu, can you get this hunk to a far enough distance that when we lose power we won't fall into Earth's gravity?"

"Already on it, and compensating for the additional mass of the Enterprise."

"Good man, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said with a grin, and Khan briefly -oh so briefly- considered that Kirk's crew was something to be envied.

"Captain, Starfleet has received our message and is sending backup."

"Sir, the tractor beam is as ready as it'll ever be," Scotty said.

Kirk tilted his head, his shoulders thrown back; to Khan's eyes, Kirk's entire being screamed a challenge to the universe. "Let's do this."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue of Khan's crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Without further ado… I think this chap will make some of you happy. I hope, anyway.

Khan maintained his deathgrip on Kirk’s hand as the bridge crew around them sprang into action; he was careful to ease his strength whenever Kirk’s bones creaked dangerously, though. He dimly heard Scotty’s warning that the remaining warpcore was struggling to maintain its integrity long enough for the insane plan to work. To his distant surprise, it was the Vulcan half-breed who suggested using a rapid pulse of speed to boost the momentum of the beam on the _Enterprise_ , a calculation rapidly implemented by the young Russian and Sulu.

If it worked, Khan was willing to let Spock live. A small part of his mind remained plotting vengeance against the pointy-eared automaton for daring – daring! – to plot to deceive him by emptying his crew from the torpedoes, thereby endangering them in this absurd situation in the first place.

But if his crew survived…

“Keptin, fvaser inversion at maximum, wrouting controls to Mr. Sulu,” the Russian teenager reported efficiently.

Khan glanced briefly at Kirk, whose eyes lit with determination as he addressed his bridge crew. “Right, we’re going to have to time this impulse burst exactly if we’re going to clear Earth’s gravitational orbit. Spock?” To Khan’s alert eyes, Kirk’s face was also inappropriately flushed, something that caught his attention: indeed, Kirk was a man meant for another time and place with his passion for living life on the edge of disaster against all odds. Khan wanted to bring him to the edge of a thousand battles and then tumble into a bed after they’d won each and every one. 

“Optimal impulse parameters will be met in four point zero six, Captain.” Spock’s response was met with a blinding grin from Kirk.

Yes, he would let the Kirk’s friend live; Khan was not blind to the tangled emotional web between the two, and he had to credit Kirk’s persistence with the duo’s comfortable relationship. It was highly unlikely the Vulcan would have made overtures of friendship, less so given the Vulcan’s primary focus on duty and secondary focus on the woman, Uhura.

That the Vulcan felt comfortable enough to use Kirk’s first name in his entreaty was additional evidence of Kirk’s persistence, a quality Khan planned to direct toward himself. He looked forward to hearing why, of all the beings in Starfleet, Kirk chose to offer the precious gift of his exuberant regard and time to one so rigidly trapped by regulation and breeding. If it was a challenge Kirk sought, Khan would figure out how best to play coy.

“Right; on Spock’s mark, Mr. Sulu you get us and the _Enterprise_ the _hell_ out of here. Scotty, make sure we got the juice to get this done!”

“Aye, Captain!”

Khan fixed his attention to the onscreen display of the _Enterprise_ descending into Earth’s atmosphere; his focus zeroed in on the shining metal arcing through space, elegant even in its tattered state.

There had been a reason, after all, he had based the _Vengeance_ on the _Enterprise_.

He heard the countdown as though from a vast distance. If this worked….

“Three…two…one…Now!”

Khan held his breath, his family hanging on the balance of a thin thread of raw determination and implausibilities.

And the _Vengeance_ gave a noticeable jerk, sending the bridge crew stumbling. Khan righted himself rapidly and pulled Kirk up alongside him, never taking his eyes off the screen.

And then…all was calm. The bridge crew began taking stock of the situation, running diagnostics.

Khan stared at the screen, willing himself to discern by sight alone the status of the ship carrying his precious cargo.

“Captain, the _Enterprise_ is in stable orbit around the Earth with the _Vengeance_ ,” Sulu reported after an agonizing eternity. The man turned and grinned at Kirk. “We did it, Sir!”

Khan’s knees nearly buckled beneath the relief he felt, Kirk’s warm hand providing a steady anchor. His crew was _safe._ All that he had done since awakening had not been for naught.

“Captain, Starfleet has sent a message,” Uhura said from her station. “They’re sending a ship to retrieve us and take into custody the – criminals,” she said, pursing her lips at a space between Khan and the admiral.

“Right,” Kirk acknowledged with a curious mixture of regret and relief. He turned to Khan. “Hey, told ya I could guarantee your crew’s safety,” he said in a light tone, his gaze running over Khan’s trembling form with badly masked sympathy.

Khan found, for once, he was unable to keep up with the myriad thoughts scattering through his mind.

His crew, his family, was _safe_. Whatever else happened with Starfleet, Kirk was a man of his word and would ensure his crew was treated fairly.

Admiral Marcus would pay. Khan was undecided as to whether he would find Starfleet’s justice sufficient payment for the crimes Marcus had committed against the Federation, much less the crimes paid unto his body and mind while in Marcus’ tender care.

Khan would be among those arrested by Starfleet; his acts of violence would be answered for, whether he was the one to pull the trigger or not.

Spock would live.

And Kirk…

Khan blinked, as that lone thought triggered a thousand others. Kirk’s angry oath to him of justice for his crimes. Kirk introducing him casually to Scotty. Kirk’s brash authority as he blustered his way through rationale between morals and ethics and Starfleet regulations in the brig. Kirk striking him repeatedly, uselessly, eyes blurry with anguish. Kirk promising his crew’s safety with laughable confidence. Kirk jumping into space with him. Kirk and his strange, infinite reservoir of stories. 

Kirk holding his hand through a moment stretched taut with horror and fear, human bones grinding beneath Khan’s fear.

Khan turned a dazed eye to where his hand still gripped Kirk’s tightly; Kirk’s knuckles were white with bloodlessness, and Khan shifted his grip slightly. He heard Kirk exhale softly with relief beside him as the blood rushed back into his fingers, a sheepish half-smile on the peculiar man’s face.

Through the cloud of buzzing thoughts, Khan locked eyes with Kirk directly, conflicting thoughts and emotions shredding plans and alternative plans until ultimately only one simple, obvious move remained.

He pulled Kirk forward with a sharp jerk of his hand, and Kirk stumbled forward, startled. Spock jumped to his feet in the background, making a curt noise. Khan ignored him as every fiber of his being focused on this one action, desperate to convey the depth of gratitude he felt, to lay his claim on the one person Starfleet undeservedly named among its fleet.

His lips found Kirk’s fervently as he used his free hand to easily draw Kirk’s body against his, marveling at the quivering energy he could feel through the uniforms they wore. Kirk’s lips had parted with surprise and Khan pressed the advantage, shifting the kiss from gratitude to so much more. He channeled every emotion inspired by the mere thought of Kirk into his lips and tongue, as though he could impress indelibly onto Kirk’s soul how very much Kirk had come to mean to him in what to mere humans was the briefest of times.

Khan pulled back with a sharp intake of air, and noted with satisfaction both the bewildered look on Kirk’s face and the aroused flush in his cheeks. The gobsmacked look was mirrored in the faces of the other crewmembers on the bridge, although none possessed the swollen lips that Kirk did, Khan observed. 

Kirk blinked, cheeks still flushed, and his eyes darted about the bridge. He opened his mouth to speak, and Khan stopped him by leaning his forehead against his, his own eyes closed. Once Kirk spoke, the wheels of reality would begin to spin again and Khan would find himself confined under captive observation, particularly as Spock’s face now seemed pinched and tight and oh so indignant. Khan savored the moment of closeness and companionship, of the lack of fear and worry, vowing to fight his way back to this place near Kirk. “Thank you,” he said simply, eyes still closed against encroaching reality, that one phrase encapsulating all that Kirk was and did.

Kirk’s blue eyes were a troubled storm when Starfleet security came to take Khan away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khan waits with surprising patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally didn’t write out Kirk and Khan's full dialogue because it seemed like a pain in the ass and needless for the purposes of this story. Adding it in the revision because WHOABOY.

The first hour in the new holding cell Khan endured patiently, observing that Starfleet headquarters had not yet upgraded their brig facilities to even the _Enterprise's_ level of technological advancement, much less the materials and designs Khan had developed for Marcus. Like the _Enterprise_ , however, the brig was arranged in a semi-circle fashion; unlike the _Enterprise_ , there were no guards posted, nor was there anyone monitoring the brig area. The cell itself used a less powerful forcefield to keep him locked in, and possessed a single wall panel with controls for a lavatory unit to swing out of the wall, as well as a drop down bed with cleanly laundered, crisp linens.

Khan identified several ways he could easily walk out of the brig along with variations should there be any number of people interfering or attempting to stop him, and decided against it for the time being. While he believed Kirk would hold true to his word and ensure the safety of his crew, there was no need at the present to risk abandoning them to Starfleet's less tender mercies. Still, he tucked those potential escape plans away in his mind, ready to take action at the slightest hint of betrayal from Starfleet.

The second hour into his stay Khan realized that he was alone in the brig; he chided himself for being surprised by this, since Starfleet would hardly have constant need or use for places to store their criminals - 87.45% of crimes worthy of incarceration were committed offworld, a statistic he'd come across while working under Marcus and found somewhat peculiar. The surveillance sensors scattered around the brig area explained in part the reason for such: on a key homeworld for the Federation, every act could be found recorded somewhere and every criminal rapidly identified and apprehended. Offworld, there was a greater chance of success at escaping the authorities. Admittedly, offworld there was also greater impetus for unlawful actions - though the circumstances may have changed over the centuries, cabin fever remained a dangerous influence on otherwise sane and law-abiding citizens.

By the fifth hour, Khan was thoroughly, irritatingly bored. He no longer had any vengeance to plan, and lacked the motivation to come up with creative plans for destruction and chaos since he was certain his crew was safe. Given that he had a few ideas but no concrete indications about what was in store for him once the Starfleet passed its judgment on him, he planned half-heartedly for his unknown future, including a few variants on taking over Starfleet from the inside out.

He would have cheerfully welcomed another prisoner, a guard, a lost visitor - anyone, really - that he could toy with and alleviate his boredom. Fantasizing about what he could do to Kirk and how Kirk would react with noises, movements, actions - that could only fill so much time before he was uncomfortably aroused in a cell presumably under 24 hour surveillance. 

As superior as Khan was, he saw no reason to lower his finely crafted body to the level of a cheap peepshow for a Starfleet lackey.

So thoughts of Kirk naked, Kirk's tongue, Kirk's hands - those could only cross his mind sparingly lest he rile himself into a senseless ball of sexual tension. The boredom was already fraying his short temper.

With a frustrated huff, he sat on the bed and leaned his head back against the wall.

The seventh hour brought only one change - the panel on the wall of his cell lit up. Khan pressed the indicated button and yet another panel in the wall slid open, revealing a meal edible with his hands only. Khan ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach as he ate mechanically; he had thought his mealtimes would be supervised or provided by someone, anyone, so that he could perhaps garner new or additional information about his situation and that of his crew and Marcus' fate. 

But as yet no one had even arrived to ask him questions, or accuse him of treachery, or request information. He had been escorted in, locked in, and left alone.

He shook his head and demanded patience of himself. He had managed to preserve his sanity and purpose despite the best attempts of Marcus' scientists - and those were memories best left untouched - surely a little boredom could be weathered.

Humorlessly, Khan noted how very unusual it was for him to sit still and simply wait. A challenge, then, to see how he could while away the hours until he was called to serve as witness or accused.

Three days later Khan was officially ready to start clawing at the walls, if not make his escape entirely. Patience was only a virtue when he had a plan or five ready to execute; sitting in this cell like a good little citizen was beginning to feel like an incredible waste of time and energy, especially since there was no proof anyone had noticed.

Not even the promise of hearing Kirk's stories could dampen his increasing restlessness for long, and that was a definite warning to himself that unless he heard some news somehow, Khan was going to take matters into his own hands again.

Thankfully, 3.5 days into his stay in the brig as Khan debated between escape plan 27c and 15b, Kirk finally appeared at the entry to the brig.

Khan's initial relief and slow curling smile were cut short by the observation that Kirk looked _exhausted_. His blond hair was limp, and his body moved a little too haltingly as he shuffled closer to Khan's cell. His uniform was too wrinkled to have been changed in the past day or so. Dark circles were under his eyes, and his lips looked chapped from a lack of proper hydration. Kirk even yawned midway through his greeting: "Hey, Khan."

Khan had made plans for what he would do and say to James T. Kirk upon seeing him again, and in predictable fashion, Kirk derailed his careful plans. "You look like hell," he said bluntly, clear eyes scanning Kirk's body critically. His plans had decidedly _not_ featured an unwell Kirk, and he began to plot vengeance for whoever was responsible.

Kirk chuckled weakly and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I figure I probably do. Bones is probably going to hypo me soon as he sees me." Kirk yawned again. "Mind if I sit down?"

Khan's eyes flickered toward the monitoring scanners all around the brig. "I would advise against it, as we're likely being watched."

"Not fucking likely," Kirk denied with a grunt as he lowered himself to the ground with a groan. "Man, I think I might go find Bones and hypo myself after this."

Khan's eyes darted back to Kirk. "What do you mean? I had presumed as high a security threat as I present to Starfleet, that the lack of visible guards meant that I was being carefully observed." Information was always valuable, and he was unashamed to take advantage of Kirk’s tired state to facilitate a better future for both of them.

The more impulsive side of his mind whispered how easy it would be to implement escape plan 7a and drag Kirk into the cell’s bed for a thoroughly exhausting few hours. In the name of giving Kirk a good night’s rest, of course. 

Khan pushed away the plan with a note to revisit once he had further details from Kirk.

Kirk snorted. "Man, you have no idea what's going on, do you?"

And Khan's irritation from 3.5 days of abject boredom found an outlet. "Given that you are the first person I have seen, much less spoken to, since I was escorted here," he said with a sneer,"I have not had much in the way of resources for finding out what is happening outside of here." His voiced dropped a tone lower, five degrees cooler. "Perhaps you would be willing to indulge me and enlighten me."

Kirk flushed red. "Sorry. Wait- really? No one's been by?" Kirk's eyes went wide. "Wow, I thought maybe someone had at least dropped by to confirm -Argh." Kirk rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "Seriously, I hate this bureaucratic bullshit." Kirk made a vague gesture with his hand. "Go ahead, have a seat. I really doubt we're being observed all that closely right now."

Reluctantly, but unwilling to send Kirk running off from providing the only source of new information in days, Khan sunk into a comfortable crouch close to the forcefield separating the two.

Kirk's lips quirked tiredly upwards at his refusal to comply with the undignified suggestion of 'sitting.' "So, let me get this clear: you have no idea what's happened since you got here, right?"

Khan gave him a look and briefly reconsidered his estimation of Kirk's intelligence with some disappointment.

"Right, right. Okay, so I'll start from the beginning and get you all caught up." Kirk paused and mulled over his words. "Well, as much as I can," he said absently. 

And Khan relaxed into his crouch, eyes alert and attention focused, pleased to be finally hearing a tale from Kirk.

“So. After Starfleet took Marcus into protective custody, me and Spock had to go to an emergency debriefing. We had to convince them to retrieve and examine the _Enterprise’s_ records of the threats Marcus made before they’d even take us seriously. As it was, Marcus had told them first that I was a hotheaded warmonger trying to cover up my involvement with a dangerous fugitive with falsified information.” Kirk rolled his eyes. “They were pretty prepared to take me into custody too. You’d think I’d have earned their respect by now-“ He cut himself off, irritated. Khan tilted his head, remembering all the rumors he’d barely paid any attention to. He regretted not looking further into those rumors – he recalled something about Kirk being instrumental in a conflict that destroyed the Vulcan homeworld that Romulan. Was that perhaps when Kirk had ‘jumped into a shotglass’, as it were?

“Anyway, we convinced them to look at the records and to interview those of my crew that survived.” Kirk’s face darkened with regret, and Khan felt a moment of commiseration with him. He doubted all of Kirk’s crew was as brilliant as his bridge crew – the bridge crew inherently possessed the special skills that let them rise in the ranks – but he recognized the sorrow of loss and failure.

There had been 100 pods in the ship Marcus’ team found adrift in space.

“I had a perfect record before this, you know?” Kirk gave Khan a dark look. “Not one crew member lost on any mission during my captaincy. And now I’ve lost half of them because Marcus turned a Starfleet vessel against my ship.”

Khan blinked, genuinely surprised. _Impressive,_ he wanted to say. _A record you shall hold again,_ he wanted to assure. _The worst enemy is the one within,_ he wanted to snarl. “Why?” he wound up asking, the question slipping out without his permission. Once committed, however, he followed with,“Casualties are inevitable risks in Starfleet as new territory and new peoples are discovered. You would have to be singularly focused and put forth excessive effort to maintain such a record. No one would blame you if members of your crew died during any mission at all.” Space travel, something that occurred hourly with ease undreamed of in his time, was still fundamentally and inherently risky.

The grief that filled Kirk’s face was unsettling, as was the blame – directed at Khan, and himself. The younger man tried to crack a smile and failed bitterly. “Someone dared me to do better.”

Khan stayed silent, wishing instead there was no forcefield and that he could convey comfort through the touch of his hand. He had killed someone close to Kirk, someone who knew how to challenge Kirk. And then he remembered Kirk’s words on his surrender on Kronos: _On behalf of Christopher Pike, my friend, I accept your surrender._

This Pike had been the reason for the raw rage in Kirk’s voice, and the guilt that darkened his blue eyes, and the blame directed at Khan.

Khan rarely entertained thoughts of regret, but he indulged this once for this wedge between him and Kirk. He suspected the only right action to take would be an apology, but doing so this instant would only spark further negative emotions from Kirk, and Khan still needed information. So he gave Kirk a few moments to his thoughts, then calmly asked,”Is the Admiralty now suitably convinced of Marcus’ crimes?”

He could visibly see Kirk pull himself together, pushing the grief aside deep within. He wanted to break Kirk apart and let the grief bleed out until nothing was left save bitter memories and a rough scar, something tough and durable in the wake of sorrow. “Kind of. They finally agreed to ‘follow our recommendations’” Kirk quoted sarcastically. “And then they started asking me and Spock questions. They would’ve kept going had Bones not crashed the meeting and demanded that I finally go get checked out.” Kirk smiled softly, fondly. 

“He takes care of you, this Bones of yours,” Khan observed quietly, noting how merely mentioning the man made Kirk’s shoulders lose some of their tension, and his stormy blue eyes lightened with affection. He remembered the man from the medical bay, the one who had refuted Kirk’s apology for failing to save them all from Marcus’ madness. The doctor had been refreshingly honest – he hadn’t much cared for Khan beyond the scientific curiosity the Augment’s biology presented, but he had mostly done his best to ignore Khan’s presence in his medbay, which was different than the suspicious glares from the nurses and security personnel.

Kirk nodded, his eyes closed. “Yeah, Bones is the best. Bit hypo-happy, but he’s good.” He looked at Khan again. “Before Bones escorted me out, I also let slip the information about the archive being a division of Section 31. I thought things couldn’t get any worse in that room.

“One of the admirals _knew_ what I was talking about, I could tell. I called him on it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Next thing I know, they’re all yelling at each other, Bones is dragging me out, security’s being called…Spock said a virus began targeting Starfleet databases and wiped out some data before it was stopped. Then while Bones was looking me over, Lieutenant Carmichael in Engineering came up and told me she’d talked to her cousin in Starfleet PR, and then I started getting comm calls from Internal Affairs about Marcus’ brutal attack on Starfleet’s flagship and hero captain and crew, then there was an assassination attempt on Marcus from one of the security guarding him – apparently his kid sister died when our hull was breached at warp.”

Kirk smiled wryly. “And that was just the first few hours. I’ve been dragged into meeting after meeting – including one to discuss a court martial of Lieutenant Carmichael for leaking confidential information before a formal tribunal could be called for Admiral Marcus.” Kirk snorted. “Like hell I’d agree to that. Had to call security on them before they lynched me for not trying to cover their asses.”

Khan considered Kirk’s tired visage carefully. “And what of me? I would imagine my involvement has been…discussed.”

Kirk snorted again, the inelegant sound irritating Khan. “You? Shit, man, you’re _peanuts_ in this fiasco. Far as the Starfleet’s concerned, you’re just a loose cannon a highly corrupted section of Starfleet allowed Marcus to launch against civilians. You’re pretty much forgotten until they can get a game plan into place.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short compared to last chapter, sorry! More to come...

Khan despised stupidity, incompetence, and being slow, three characteristics he was confident had been engineered out of him and his people. Nevertheless, he found himself committing the unconscionable crime of asking Kirk to repeat himself. "What do you mean, I've been _forgotten_?" he demanded, unable to keep the indignant tone from his voice. Khan was many, many things of varying degrees of acceptability in polite company, but _forgettable_ was certainly NOT one of them.

Kirk shrugged with a wry grin. "Trust me, right now that's a good thing. I think. Between the circus of court martialing an admiral for attempting to murder the entire crew of a _very_ expensive Starfleet vessel, finding out said admiral had threatened and oppressed otherwise innocent people, and the sudden interest in digging up any and all hints of corruption and illegally funneled resources and funds and covering their asses, Starfleet's not too interested in taking on the additional headache of someone who is both a criminal and a victim of the aforementioned admiral." 

Khan didn't bother hiding his sneer. Clearly Starfleet had gotten far too complacent and cumbersome in its organizational structure if a mere scandal had them scrambling for answers.

Kirk rubbed his forehead with a wince. "And right now, everything's being kept under wraps from the media at large until Starfleet's higher ups can agree on how the hell they're going to handle this in terms of PR."

Right, media blackout. Khan mulled over that fact; certainly it was useful to know that Starfleet was unwilling to go public with the alarming corruption and devastation within its ranks. Indeed, a loss of trust in the institution would cause incredible problems for Earth's membership in the Federation and the relevant alliances at its core. And if the finger was pointed directly and correctly at Marcus, there would be additional finger pointing at those who should've noticed or paid closer attention to the actions of the admiral. Likely there would be arguments over which governing body should have been supervising Marcus' activities and ensuring he stayed within bounds.

Khan stared at Kirk thoughtfully. Finally, he narrowed his eyes with suspicion. "This is why you're exhausted - endless meetings where blame is being _shifted_?"

Kirk yawned. "Hey, at least they haven't tried to put the blame on me. Yet, anyway," he added in an undertone. Khan was again taken aback by the bitterness in Kirk's voice, but before he could inquire for further explanation, Kirk spoke again, quietly. "To be fair, we're doing our best to make sure everything is taken into account when you're brought up on _your_ charges, and that means getting a thorough debriefing on what the hell Marcus was up to."

Khan gave the tired blond man a considering look, feeling an odd warmth at the implication that despite his crimes, Kirk was endeavoring to make Khan's case a more sympathetic one. Rather silly and sentimental, to be perfectly frank, as Khan held no regrets for the death of lesser innocents spurred by his anger at Marcus' betrayal, but Khan was hardly stupid enough to admit to such to Kirk when the man was so very clearly trying, stubbornly, to ensure his vision of fair justice was achieved. Best not to muddy Kirk's likely conflicting motivations at this juncture.

Technically, Kirk was absolutely right in terms of legal precedence for leniency. Khan supposed he could argue a defense of temporary insanity due to grief, resulting in a lighter sentence; it was a stretch, certainly, but plausible. "And my crew?"

Kirk smiled. "They're fine, and in good hands. Bones and his team are keeping an eye on the cryotubes and anyone who goes anywhere near them needs to get his approval first. In the shuffle, Starfleet's not terribly interested in them as anything but evidence. Speaking of - any chance you know where yours went?"

Khan thought about it, glibly ignoring the unpleasant memories around his awakening in search of concrete data. He was in no mood to relive those days. "It's possible Marcus destroyed it, but if not, you would likely find them in the rubble of Section 31's 34th basement level."

Kirk pursed his lips at the reminder of the act of terrorism that hung between them awkwardly like the sword of Damocles. "Right," he said heavily,"I'll let the investigative excavation team know."

A few moments of silence passed before Khan noticed Kirk's head beginning to nod off. "Kirk, go find your doctor and get some sleep," he suggested with a frown. He took care of his own, even if Kirk was still ignorant of his intentions.

Kirk jerked awake with an embarrassed tint to his cheeks. "Right, good plan." He slowly pulled himself to his feet and stretched. Khan rose from his crouch with him. Kirk paused as he turned to leave. "Um, so I have a question."

Khan raised his eyebrows. "Ask away," he permitted with a quirk of his lips. 

Kirk looked as though he were wrestling with himself, his blue eyes darting to Khan's face - no, his _lips_. Then he shook his head. "Never mind. I'll see you around." He paused and shrugged. "Not sure when, though. Things are going to be nuts for awhile." 

"Apparently," Khan murmured. "Sleep well, Kirk."

Kirk gave him a casual wave and shuffled away. 

Khan closed his eyes, committing the conversation to memory, and savoring Kirk's voice.


End file.
